When in her favor
by sindijow
Summary: Hunger games AU. Mikasa had the odds entirely in her favor. She lived with a victor, trained under a victor, and like a victor she had no friends or acquaintances left at all save one. Could she do it though? Kill other kids her age that is. Become a murderer? She is more than compliant, but what if she has to ally the worst murderer of all? The boy from her district. LEVIMIKA
1. Chapter 1

**When in her favor**

The odds were entirely in her favor.

_Thumb._

Just wait for this afternoon, she needn't worry.

_Crack._

She should be ecstatic, joyful even. Were she to leave she would get what she's always dreamed of for three agonizing years.

_Crash._

Why were her hands moist? She wasn't nervous, was she? She wasn't afraid. No. Others should though. They might get elected randomly and snatched from some loving family and some well-organized community. For all she knew, her choice might be saving someone's life, a life that should not be wasted. Hers however, well, others agree she should die, but in the right way.

_Thumb. Crack. Crash. _The tree trunk she's been axing into for the past few minutes fell, a thick one, quite rigid too. She tossed the ax aside and sat before the firewood she's been gathering, game bag by her feet. She's axed into a wild boar earlier, one of the common beasts in the thick forests surrounding district 12. She felt for a towel and rubbed her reddened hands and face. Scowling when it came out damp, she ditched it and craned her head backwards, staring the sun in the eye. Today was the day of reaping and she was to be the prey this time around.

The other residents in 12 agreed she should die, those who were poor mainly. 3 years ago, in haze, she had grabbed gasoline and stolen a flamethrower from the peacekeepers office, poured the toxic liquid on a bunch of stuff, and ended up burning half of the hub.

So of course they wanted her dead. But her doing today would only prove them wrong. That her footing is more stable than theirs and when she's crowned, they won't dare send acidic glares in her direction no more.

The next time she gets back to 12, she'll be a victor.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Mikasa Ackerman had the best of odds.

She was skilled, possessed quite of a sheer force. However, were it not for the fact that she lived under the roof of the victor of 29th hunger games "Hannes Barnaby", that she has been excessively training for 3 years and that she had no acquaintances at all save one, she would not be volunteering for the games.

Those were her three motivations.

Well, there was a fourth but she lived to stray from that mention.

10 am, the sun was blazing. The victors' village was deserted, _the usual._ Her game bag was blobbing up and down, heavy with the boar's body. The firewood was stalling her stride, once before one house, she dropped the wood and filed in without hesitation. The windows inside were still draped and she took notice of the dim atmosphere. Hannes was lying on a plush sofa, liquor fixed in the crook of his armpit, sending his disgusting snores. Mikasa spared him one glance before pouring a jar of ice cold water in his face. He shot forward, his bottle diving like a missile and meeting the ground with a crash. He glared at her.

"That was the only one left!" He complained audibly. She slammed the bag on the wooden table and extracted the contents. The gray furrowed boar, a head-less rabbit and a squirrel.

"Skin those." She commanded, rather impolitely. He was used to lack of respect on her part. By all means, she couldn't have cared less.

Back in her room upstairs, she readied the tub, rinsed dirt off her knuckles and her nails then washed her black hair. She dressed in a simple dress, one of her mom's, a gray one. She let her hair wave down to her shoulders, studied her expression in the mirror and scowled. _This_, this is how everyone would see her this afternoon at reaping, she would glare and glare and glare just to make sure her point was made.

She hated everyone in 12.

She hated _everyone_.

When she descended, the room smelled of warm bread and sugar. _Armin_, bringing loaves from his family's bakery. She acknowledged the sight of the young man with his blond ponytail and his work attire. Armin was probably the only one she didn't hate, and the one friend she had left that she so sincerely was beginning to regret having to leave behind.

"Today's the day, eh?" Piped Hannes, finally sober. Armin gave her a blank look and offered her the tiny white box. Chocolate chip cookies, used to be her favorite, and somebody else's favorite…

Bad memories were ferociously assaulting her. It was bad enough that she had to give herself as a fresh tribute, it was worse if she had to relive all the sad events related to the games. Events that stormed away with her family, and fixed this dark look in her regarding everything.

They sat on the porch. His arm was reassuring but she tried distancing herself from him as much as those three inches of gap between them could offer. Armin leaned in.

"Mikasa, this is suicide."

"You don't say."

"You don't have to do this." He insisted.

"Yes." She glared at him fiercely "Yes I have to."

"He wouldn't want you to volunteer Mikasa." Armin pleaded. She stood abruptly, no more memories, _no more._ She wanted to curl right there and start crying.

_Eren wouldn't want you to follow him where he went, once in the games you'll be dead._

_Yes. I would be dead. But I would finally get to be with him._

_Unless I fight. Unless I fight to win._

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

She was determined more than ever, when they took their places in rows depending on their ages. Armin was standing a few rows back, where parents and adults were installed. Armin was already 19, she needn't worry about him. He had a vague clue about her intentions when she started her training regime under Hannes' intensive supervision. He tried to change her mind ever since.

_The_ woman walked up the podium. Hange Zoe, ever energetic, ever ecstatic, tapped the mike and spoke up, welcoming them to the reaping where the tributes to the 57th hunger games were to be chosen. Her hand snuck inside the transparent giant ball and pulled a single paper reading "Mina Carolina". Mikasa knew Mina. She recognized Mina as she dazedly took her way the podium. She saw disbelief in Mina's face when she stepped up and mouthed loud enough for the peacekeepers keeping them in tow to hear.

"I volunteer as tribute."

So Mikasa took the girl's place, rising beside the restless woman from the capitol and speaking her name aloud. The crowd which she expectedly assumed would be satisfied with this outcome was deathly silent. She knew those people hated her, she'd burned down their only hub; she didn't mean it but still. When it came to bread, they were unforgiving.

She wasn't surprised when they refused to clap, but she was genuinely and utterly taken aback when she saw them slap their fists up their hearts and their other fists behind their backs, the traditional gesture of district 12 where you show respect for the living and bid farewell to the dead.

When Hange Zoe walked to pull the boy tribute's name, Mikasa was already lost to the world. The fact that her own people recognized her volunteering and enlisting in the games in Mina's stead was quite surprising. When Mikasa was 13, she's heard the news that turned her entire world upside down. Her adoptive brother who was literally 3 years older than she was at the time and have been elected for the 54th hunger games, was dead, killed rather brutally. She was in the forest at the time, hunting. When she came back to the village, everyone gave her that look, expectant, grievous, compassionate all at once.

She blacked out after hearing about Eren, waking before a burning hub and people screaming their heads off in the middle of the night. People swore it was her who sneaked in the shut hub and burned it down. She was 13 and had no memory of the ordeal. Their compassion in her regard turned to loath.

Eventually, the peacekeepers had to let her go since they held no clues against her. Plus, the capitol who normally ignored 12 had been discussing burning the market down and building a new city hall in its stead. To them, she's done them a huge favor. That fact made her hate herself and the world around her even more.

She woke to the sound of Hange's cheerful comment "My, my, _yet another volunteer._" Mikasa's gaze traveled to where the crowd steered away from one boy, one who was walking up the stairs with peacekeeper rifles digging in his back. The boy stood next to the abrasively grinning Hange.

"What's your name my boy?" She tilted the mike to his side, just slightly.

"Levi." He said, and she remembered him immediately.

_Oh no._


	2. Chapter 2

**When in her favor**

_No, no and no!_

This was beyond her calculations, beyond any of her speculations. To her, she knew that when she'd volunteer aiming to win the games, she'd have to kill the boy tribute in her district, or more realistically, hope he gets killed beyond her reach. Now, she doubted this Levi person really could get killed either by her or anyone else in the games.

Because he was usually known in 12 as hunter, not the kind that sneaks to the forest and kills actual animals, but that kind that confiscate their own people. A thug.

His work was usually neat. Never leaving traces behind, never offering peacekeepers the pleasure to arrest him for good. People knew of his criminal record yet refused to speak it up of fear that they be next in his long list of theft. A young thug was not uncommon in 12, but one who actually managed to beat full grown men in spars, that _was unique._

Thief or not, he was still underage, and thus he could not escape the capitol hovercrafts in their patrols trying to catch those who try to escape the reaping. Somehow Mikasa had the feeling he came of his own accord. She steeled herself and looked away, to the cameras. She's practiced her glares for long hours but now her face was expressionless, stoically bored, his was the same.

Where she knew him, had only been fueled by rumors. She was sure of his whereabouts thanks to one occurrence. The year before the last, when she'd been 14 and hunting in the woods, she stumbled across a bear. It was a wild catch, a lucky one, and she was determined to bring the beast down. She had managed to ax into its front but a wounded animal is much more ferocious than a regular one and it eventually managed to knock her down. Then she saw _him. _She didn't know back in the day but only seen him as he took over her fight, armed with a spear. Coming to a few hours later, she found herself before Hannes' house with no memory of ever getting there herself. He must've saved her life back there. By all means, she owed him one.

This was going to get heated. The path to winning the games was already planted with obstacles. Who knew what lay next?

XXXXXXXXX

Trains to the capitol were extravagantly equipped. Food was served at 2 pm sharp and Mikasa found herself seated before rich and overly sized portions. Hannes was pouring down his precious wine, Hange who was bespectacled and yet couldn't escape the Capitol's signature face painting, was elegantly dividing plates and monitoring the tiny scissoring of her fork. Levi was sitting opposite from her, clutching tightly at a knife. She wondered if he was already planning her demise and whether he would grasp the opportunity instinctively and stab her with that knife. She waved her ridiculous concerns away and spooned into her soup plate. Her left hand, under the table, gripping a knife of her own. If he wanted her down, she would fight.

"So," He finally spoke up, his voice holding the deep tone of the 18 year old that he was "you're our mentor?" He waved his knife towards Hannes in emphasis.

"Yeah." Hannes didn't spare him a glance.

"Who're you going to train?" It was obviously a trick question. The boy's eyes were narrow, a cunning blue. He raised a brow "So?"

"Both a' you."

"I don't think that's legit."

"Who cares what you think. There have only ever been 2 victors in 12 and one of whom is dead. Sorry to bring your hopes down kid, but whatever plans you got under your sleeve, you'll have to share 'em with the rest of us. We're a team now."

Mikasa nearly chocked on her drink. _A team? A team!? He was screwing with them. He must be._

Levi kept staring at his obviously drunk mentor, his quick hand rose to his throat, holding the tiny blade.

"And if I kill you here and now. I guess that would raise my hopes up again eh? At least then, I could train myself on my own."

"This is silverware you're threatening me with." Hannes murmured, mocking.

"It is." Levi concluded, studying the shiny knife "But I know how to pluck people's eyes with mere forks, and dull ones too. It wouldn't really be pretty when I pop your eyeballs out huh?"

Now Mikasa knew the game he was playing at. Intimidation. She's used it plenty of times to push nosy classmates and glaring villagers out of her way. It was working alright. Mikasa flipped her own knife in the air, catching it with one hand. Hange looked justifiably shocked. "I can't let you do that." The raven haired girl murmured "Rendering him blind would mean me cutting your own vision out. I'm trying to keep from bathing in blood these days."

For a moment it looked as if he were considering giving her a comeback, probably to remind her of those old days when she couldn't beat a bear in its own fight. He just pulled back, "Lovely." He had the vaguest of smiles on his face. Settling the knife back on the table he rose to leave the compartment, sparing them one last glance "I would gladly take the knife along, but that's precious silverware. I'm fairly certain Miss Zoe here would barrage an entire army of peacekeepers on my door were I to spoil her kitchen collection."

When he left, Hannes breathed a sigh of relief "Christ, he's a wild animal. Watch out." He nonchalantly warned her. Looking at Hange, expecting to see her frightened and out of her wits, Mikasa was genuinely surprised when the woman sighed

"Ah, what an incredibly charming boy!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The first of numerous events within the games consisted of touring the city center in carts, wearing costumes that emphasize the quality and specialty of each district. Theirs was making coal, so she couldn't say that district 12 got the most charming of costumes.

After going through an incredibly pushy strain of showering and re-showering and plucking hair, she met her stylist. A tall blond man with no scandalous makeup on his face the way people in the Capitol usually were.

"Hey, I'm Erwin." He introduced, turning her naked figurine before a full length mirror.

"Mikasa." She called back. Her eyes were flitting to a white box on the sofa beside which she stood. When Armin gave her his last visit he was allowed to give her one thing, a token from her district. In that case, the box contained a set of his professionally made cookies and her red scarf right below. She's received the muffler when she turned seven, Eren had given it to her. When he died, she'd thrown the old thing in one of her numerous drawers in her room at Hannes'. How Armin found it was not important. She was keeping it, not to recall the form of Eren's ghost but to keep a piece of her only friend with her every step of the way.

Erwin her stylist was nice. Not in Capitol nice but as the regular kind of nice. He didn't make weird jokes like Hange did or have a strange taste in fashion. He took notice of her red scarf and studiously examined it. Then, he's asked her to close her eyes.

Coming from twelve, she didn't expect much from her costume. They'd probably dress her in black, or worse, force her to strip and coat her body with _actual _coal.

So when she opened her eyes, she saw that they'd put her in a black dress, strapless and fitting to the torso, billowing downward, spilling to the ground. She had a long long red scarf wrapped around her neck, her naked arms and falling on her back. Her hair was falling to her shoulders, yet held back to her scalp with a rose crown, the tiny crimson petals were somehow, _glistening._

To her relief, her face wasn't painted. Her lips were generously red, yes, and her lids were linen and dark shadowed, but nothing bad. Mikasa was more than blown away; she kept a poker face though.

"It's a miracle."

"What?" Erwin laughed.

"I look feminine." _Very_. She worried about the impact that'd leave to the sponsors. "What do roses have to do with coal?"

"Pretty things can be deadly sometimes…" Erwin smiled, "I'm betting you're a living proof of that."

She only saw a glimpse of his smirk and heard a click.

She caught on fire.

* * *

**I hate when this website lags. I mean my story manager lags. I was ready to post this yesterday, but my account started featuring error messages, WTH. **

**Basically nothing happens in this Chapter, I'm leaving excitement for next chapter or the one after the next, I don't obviously know.**

**But seriously you guys, thanks for the feedback. Feel free to tell me if this is completely awful already. **


	3. Chapter 3

**When in her favor**

How Mikasa knew they were on a bad start was trivial at the moment. Their heated conversation had been forgotten under the blaze of the city lights, the flashes of the cameras, and the cheering crowds. Mikasa's black gown, spilling to the floor of their cart, woven back with the wind's impact and the sheer intensity of their ride, her hair flying back, and so was the long long scarf.

Levi had a black body suit; no colors blotched around his form other than the red shawl covering his neck, crimson as hers was, and his ice blue eyes. His personal stylist had fixed a rose similar to hers above her ear. The moment their carts launched, pulled with stallions, Levi tore the thing and thrown it to rubble underneath their wheels. Midway into the ride, Mikasa torched up, her crimson crown, her blood red scarf and the low edges of her gown, all turned ablaze. When looking around, she saw that her partner's shawl was aflame as well, fire striping down his suit. The crowd's attention immediately turned to them.

His hand slipped into hers. She pulled away. He scowled.

"It's kissing ass they want, then it's kissing ass we give."

"No." There was no way she'd hold hands with him. Such act could only emphasize, unity, camadery, amity.

Love.

They were _enemies._

"Come on." He pressed.

Wordless, their fingers intertwined.

And they raised their linked arms skyward; the crossing point between two torching flames, the crowd was going crazy.

They loved it.

They loved _them._

Too bad Mikasa hated every single soul present, including the boy by her side.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Paranoia is a curse. Distrust is an art, destructive when it dwells beyond the limits, useful when it shoots pre warnings. That trait in her was making red lights in her head shoot on.

_There was no way she'd trust any of these people._

Prior to training, Hannes had given her, _them, _and advice "Do NOT show your true skill in training. If you're particularly gifted and whatnot, then keep a low profile, Careers would make of you their first targets."

Careers were the kids from districts 1 and 2 and more often than not, 4. She knew the girl from 4. Seen her on the replay of the reaping on Capitol news. She was the big girl who volunteered like many from her district, 'Catarina _something,_' her brother 'Jean' as following, volunteered but didn't seem to possess the same bloodlust as his sister.

During training, the pair from 1 proved handy with a wide variety of weapons, Reiner and Annie, they called themselves. The boy from 2 tagging along, the pair from 3 were strangely distant, the girl from 4 liked steel axes, and obviously forced her brother along, the rest were anonymous, save the boy from 11 who had a tanned skin and an exceptional talent at beating the living hell out of anyone.

Mikasa liked steel axes too. They were quite heavy to lift but gave the livid impression of holding weigh in each palm. Her throwing range, aiming arc and agility were precise. She saved her liking for the personal training and narrowly evaded all invitations to personal hand to hand combats.

When the final day came, they were due to present a swift interview with Nanaba, the Capitol's official and favorite interviewer for the past years in the games. Erwin fixed her in a thigh length red dress. She wanted to complain and mention that she looked like a prostitute but she shut up for good when she saw the girl from 3. Pretty pretty Christa lenz, was quite angelic but nothing explained why her designer put her in a swim suit.

Again, she reminded herself. Paranoia is a curse. She paused her worried eyes, fleeting to the crowd, searching for Erwin. Nanaba asked bluntly why Mikasa would volunteer. Careers usually came from 1 and 2, not 12. Seeing Erwin's curt nod, she decided she would give them the most honest answer she could afford.

"My brother, he died in the games 3 years ago."

"And you wanted to die in the same place he did, in the arena?"

Mikasa gave her a sweet smile.

"Ma'am, I scored 12 in the talents' test, I'm fairly certain I won't die."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

They shot a tracker into her arm. They dressed her in loose velvet dark pants and thick boots over them, a white elbow length top, a cream shawl, underneath which she settled her scarf.

It was a warm outfit, but an unsettling one. Why they would clothe them so generously luxurious was beyond her.

"Remember." Hannes reminded "Once the buzzer's on, you run away, from the cornucopia, from the other tributes. It'll be a blood path for at least the first hour, so watch out."

When she's led to a private chamber with one metal tube at the very rear, she was met by Erwin. He fixed her shawl so as to keep her neck warm. He smiled lightly, noticing the red scarf.

"You never actually took it off, have you?"

"I'm keeping it as a token."

He nodded, understanding. She glanced down only to find him fixing a pin, just above her heart, before handing her her dark thick jacket. It was shaped like a couple of intertwining wings, one was black, and the other was white.

"It's supposed to symbolize freedom. I made it." He added, sounding characteristically humble before his own beauteous creation.

"It's lovely Erwin, thank you." She murmured, genuinely.

"10 seconds to launch." The speaker sounded. She took her place within the glass tube; the cylinder she stood over was carefully rising.

She braced herself as the first rays of sunlight appeared, clouding her vision. There were 12 launching circles at total. Surrounding them stood the ancient rubble of monuments with Greek structure. The golden Cornucopia blazed under the sunlight.

Beyond the ruins, were mountains, high, coated with green, topping it at the highest point was a peak of snow.

Mikasa stood, beside her was the girl from 11, on her other side was the boy from 8. She sighted Levi several circles away, studiously inspecting the Cornucopia.

The buzzer read 37 seconds until the start of the games. Levi's eyes met hers, and his smile suddenly widened. He started speaking; mouthing words only she'd understand.

'YOU OWE ME'

Stupid of her to assume that he'd forgotten about the bear incident. Of course she owed him, why he mentioned that now was odd. Was he trying to perturb her? 23 seconds to start. She pondered about which way she'd take, once the buzzer hits.

There was a back pack lying a few feet away, heading to the Cornucopia would be suicide. Within was her ax, though. Her precious ax was there. The other option would be to head away, to the mountains, hidden inside the forest, she'd probably have a chance to survive.

Nature. She'd only survive nature. With no weapons in her possession she'd be at her utmost vulnerable state. She'd have to ware away from the other tributes. Or else…

10 seconds.

Mountains, Cornucopia.

9

Mountains.

8

Cornucopia.

7

The bag pack, she remembered the bag pack.

6

If only she could reach it. It was a few feet away though.

5

_Fuck. Fuck everything. _She though bitterly, hating her indecision.

4

Levi. He's smiling. Probably restraining his laughter.

3

Why is he still looking at her? Could he be possibly capable of guessing her turmoil?

2

Mountains, or Cornucopia. The choice suddenly became ridiculous. She knew exactly where to head first.

In one moment, she scanned her surroundings. The other tributes, bent over, determined, _ready._

1

"_Ladies and gentlemen, may the 57__th__ hunger games begin!"_

Chaos was it. Running they were to the Cornucopia. Some were heading away. She shot forward, swift as a bullet. She saw Levi's eyes widen in an instinct, finally catching hold of her aim.

She was running straight towards _him._


	4. Chapter 4

**When in her favor**

She could've fallen. But her run was firm. Levi was headed to the Cornucopia. He saw her upcoming assault but did not relent.

_Huh. _She thought. _Expected._

She passed him, a couple of millimeters, and ducked. Her fingers closed over the pack's handle and she turned to run in the opposite direction, to the mountains.

The girl from 4 stood in her way.

The girl from 4 was a big one and a swift one as well. She had gone to the Cornucopia and back in 10 seconds straight which was an assumption but clearly one that she wouldn't deny because the girl from 4 already had an ax in one hand.

Which was more than enough proof for her.

Mikasa sped, dodging instinctively as the ax sizzled past her head. Landing a couple of inches away. The raven haired saw the other tribute clearly when turning. She had one hand grasping at the second ax, the one slung over her back, her position was dangerously close to the launching cylinders. After the start of the games, explosives are automatically fixed and when a person or even the merest of objects, even one that weighs no more than a leaf, would set the explosives off. It dawned on Mikasa in that moment. Suddenly, the idea of giving up the one possession she wouldn't completely regret loosing became appealing. Erwin would forgive her, he surely would. In that one instant, Mikasa tore the pin out of breast pocket and threw, it landed on the launching circle. Mikasa sprinted away.

_Boom! _One horrendous boom.

And the girl from 4 turned into a million limbs.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Her first kill, she thought as she frantically scaled the forest way. The ones, who were still in the Cornucopia at the time of the explosion, took refuge within. She thought about Hannes, and his advice "Find water, some shelter and stay alive."

Food was covered. Trees would shelter her. The current issue was how to find water.

Troubled. After a few hours of aimless wandering, she took note of her vulnerable state. With no concealment and a severe case of dehydration, she was and easy target. Of course she had her ax (technically it was the girl from 4's) but putting up a good fight with a dry tongue and moist fingers was extremely uncomfortable.

The high trees blocked the sun rays. It was already dusk when Mikasa gave in to exhaustion and sitting on a high tree trunk she decided that she has aproximely scaled a good chunk of the mountain. Her fingers felt for the pack, slowly emptying it of its contents. An empty bottle of water (would it hurt to fill it?), a rope, a small knife and some dried fruits along with a sleeping bag. She fixed herself in the bag and fastened the rope around her waist, lest she falls during her slumber, 30 seconds afterwards and she was out like a light.

But she woke midway into the night. The cannons had fired 8 unfortunate shots, earlier in the day. Now she was staring at their faces, amongst which the girl she resulted in killing, probably has contributed in the passing of the others too but she wasn't sure as of whom exactly.

The next day came and she wasn't surprised to see that she'd been thirstier than ever. While the burning rays couldn't reach her through the thick foliage, the air was incredibly hot and humid. Her search for a source proved fruitless and she sat before a bush of flowers on the soft grass and she chewed on a cracker. Wondering what the hell to do next, she remained still, and despite her uncanny attentiveness, she was lolled to sleep.

Hours later, she woke; hot damp all over with perspiration. She sought water anew, rejoicing when she distinguished what sounded to her as the sound of water sliding.

She followed her instincts, pondering whether people were still dying of late. The sky did not glow with the Capitol's anthem though. Today was a resting day, no tribute was slaughtered.

They must be thinking these were disastrous games. Usually in the first hour, half of the tributes perish. The other half goes through natural disasters and battles. The games could last weeks, but the game makers don't like leaving the audience without excitement. Once the heat in the arena cools, game makers make up a reason to drive tributes against each other. That they still haven't used that option yet, means what the other tributes are up to is far more entertaining that her slow death by dehydration, she seriously never expected to get thirsty that fast.

But it also meant that the others were tough, tougher than in the usual games. In the special show, a lot of tributes scored high, including four of whom managing to land a full 12 (game history), herself, Levi, that guy Reiner and Berik the beast from 11.

Her ears never lie. Her feet led her to a small pond, waters calm as oil. Mikasa crouched near, and was careful enough to restrain herself from shoving her face into it. She dipped a finger, one finger, in slow motion, just to test the water's temperature.

But then her finger froze.

Literally.

Mikasa's never felt like it, never seen like it. Clusters of ice began showing before her pinky's nail, then spreading slowly and painfully to the rest of her hand. The raven haired let out a shriek of surprise and started rubbing on it.

It wouldn't budge.

She was stupid to think that Game makers have given her this pond so she would get over her thirst. The water was clearly poisonous.

It froze everything it touched.

And now she couldn't unfreeze it, couldn't free the back of her right hand. _Her right hand!_ The better at aiming, the stronger, more flexible one. Her fingers felt as if they weighed a hundred pound each. She inhaled, deeply, so as to push panic away. _You'll solve this Mikasa, you will. Just calm down. _

Her fingers were now crystalline, pulsing and heavy. She hurt, felt the clusters slowly emanating to reach her wrist. She needed to do something before her whole arm was hardened.

Her left hand fumbled for the ax, raised it in a trembling grip. The ordeal had left her weak and vulnerable and hurting all over with the stinging in her iced limb. She tightened her grasp on the heavy weapon and motioned it at her hand's level.

And then she lowered it abruptly.

And then she cut her whole hand off.

* * *

**I should add gore to this fic's genre :P Thanks for the review guys! You motivate me.**


	5. Chapter 5

**When in her favor**

…Or at least, she thought she did.

Her left hand was getting slick with perspiration, her aching slowly spreading to her heart. The ax fell a few inches away. To think that she had been inches away from amputating a hand… No, no, no… there must be another way to it… Crippled and decapitated, she won't make it to round two in the games. She needed to find a solution, one that didn't involve having to rip her own grip from her body.

She fumbled within the bag, coming on a short blade token from the Capitol, she tried cutting the ice fragments, in vain. It wouldn't budge.

She settled on peeling her already hardened skin. The ordeal was incredibly painful and she couldn't help but cry out in agony. All in all, she speculated that having a fleshless red hand, prone to all kinds of infections and momentarily useless, was better than not having a hand at all.

So she laid there, her arm limp and clutching to her bosom, her nails digging into the damp hearth, trying to push the pulsing ache and focus on something else. The stars. The stars were magnificently bright. Moments later, her dull staged awareness subsided, sending her to oblivion.

When she woke, she recalled her current issue. Her throat and tongue went dry. Her right hand raw and red with a mixture of a worrying blue to it. She probed it with a finger, and instantly drew back when the sharp stinging became unbearable. Immediately coming to her senses, she bandaged the thing and fixed it atop her chest as she rose to leave her position.

No water, no shelter, a skinless useless hand, at least she had her ax, slung over one shoulder. Her journeying to the top of the mountain was painfully slow, her strides becoming duller and duller as dehydration and hunger took over her system. _Goddamn. Goddamn everything to hell. _She thought bitterly. How long was it since the games started? Oh, presumably 3 days, within which nothing happened. At least, nothing's happened with _her…._

…yet.

It hurt to think that somewhere, somehow, tributes were giddily anticipating a confrontation, and bleeding and dehydrated as she was, there'd be no slight chance of her ever surviving the assault.

So she steeled herself, brushed the dirt from her loose pants and top, rolled her jacket over her bleeding hand and fastened it with a stray rope. She'd have to monitor her way now with her left hand only, but first, water, food, lest she dies a ridiculed death, without a real opponent to strangle and beat up.

Her flight across river stones revealed the blessed water. She had been jogging for half an hour only, and the river was an immense blessing from the god himself. She was much of a religious anyway, but she was willing to pick up and fix shreds of her faith that's gone astray the moment Eren had died.

Slowly, eagerly, she soaked a tree branch in the steady current, checking whether the water contained any Gamemaker altered chemical substances. Satisfied, she drank a mouthful, filled her empty bottle, fished for a metal pail by the tree roots and picked it up, she needed every spare droplet. She couldn't be faced by the danger of dehydration again, but she was determined that once atop the first mountain she'd scale even higher, and up there she'd have ice to melt and water would be the least of worries.

Now her anxiety focused primarily on her hand, and how an infection could spread into it and she'd find herself forced to forge into her flesh or cut the whole limb off. She gently unwrapped it, studied the delicate pink flesh and its mauve tint. Not good, she concluded, she had lit a small fire and set her pail atop it, hoping the water would warm. She lowered her hand into it and stifled a cry, and then she immediately put fresh bandages and got rid of her bloodied jacket.

Her strides became careful once she got used to the numbing of her arm, the prickling in her flesh, and she tried training with left handed jabs from her ax, which wasn't bad. For the most part, she managed to hit a sole target 3 successive times, she grinned with satisfaction and wiped the sweat from her brow. She winced as she settled in the shade of a tree and subtly hunted for a stray squirrel while nibbling on her crackers all the while.

Surprisingly, her appetite had diminished. Her hunger subsided; she was left with the hollow throbbing of her injury along with a frighteningly empty stomach.

That was _not_ something to rejoice in.

So she single handedly climbed through branches, and shielded herself from enemies 40 feet below.

Out like a light, she drifted off.

Waking up, she stiffened on instinct, warily scanning the hearth. There were two people strolling down there. The girl from 5 and the girl from 3.

The girl from 3, Christa Lenz, was an exquisite beauty parading around the arena, with this sullen sulking big girl called Ymir who despite being from another district, liked lurking and tagging along the blond chick like her own shadow. Mikasa narrowly suspected there was something beyond friendship and loyalty pledges sworn under the weight of alliances. Their position at that very moment confirmed their antics. Ymir was holding Christa against a tree, whereas the latter blushed furiously and tried to hide behind loose bangs and bat cornflower eyes. Mikasa rolled her gaze away in annoyance and wished they'd only do it away from this particular tree, she was in no mood to view sexual molestation even if it were being aired life for the entire nation to see.

Lezboes, she was tempted to call, 'go way.' But they didn't. In an abrupt change of scenery, an arrow sizzled past the tree leaves and landed just inches from the couple. Christa's hand cupped her ear, Ymir gave a sharp intake of breath and raised her gaze upwards, clutching at a spear. "I'll kill you! Whoever you are!" She growled menacingly. Suddenly, another arrow flew by, and another, and another. As if this archer was not used to such a tremendous amount of arrows and was hoping to get rid of 'em soon. Oh well, Mikasa thought sarcastically, she'd only be too happy to help end their own life away, whoever they were.

She fixed the weight of her weapon in her vulnerable hand lightly, balanced her figure on the branch with her sound one. Ymir shot her spear in one flexible, decisive arc and waited. Moments later, a body crumbled to the ground. Plummeting, groaning, the girl with the arrows lay motionless on the heavy foliage. Mikasa narrowed her gaze and thought, if she had to guess her age, and judging by her infantile features, she'd say this girl was only 12. She slightly recognized her from brief interviews with Nanaba-san as the youngest tribute, originating from 11, and companion to Berik the giant.

If so, Mikasa pondered grimly, that meant this girl knew of Berik's whereabouts, she'd spare her life just for that. _Just for that._

Ymir was standing protectively before Christa, shielding her of what, that Mikasa didn't know. Christa was trembling like mad. _Pussy,_ the raven haired concluded, disdainful.

Finally, Ymir produced a dagger, sprouting from the handle was a sharp blade. Mikasa's fingers quivered with desire. She had to have that weapon to herself.

_And have it she will._

Her left hand gripped the branch above which she'd been leaning. She eyed the party on the ground one last time. Ymir was flashing her victim with a look of pure hunger, she was ready to thrust her blade into the child's throat. In one swift movement, Mikasa swung down, letting go of the branch when reaching her ideal momentum and switching her ax to her left hand. In her fall, her eyes met Christa's. The blond's mouth fell agape. No sound came out. Nothing, but a shrill cry of warning.

It turned into a blood freezing scream.

Mikasa's ax connected with Ymir neck in one powerful jab. Mikasa pushed forth and didn't spare a blink when blood sprout out, splattering her face and gray shawl. She twisted her weapon, now lodged halfway in Ymir's throat, and finally, finally, she released it. Ymir's head fell wobbling to the ground, rolling and landing just before Christa's feet.

Boom!

One down.

The girl bent forward to pick the head up. Mikasa waved her ax in her direction threateningly, not wanting to divert her attention. "You cry?" She enquired, her lips thin with disgust. She studied Christa disdainfully, keenly watchful as tears ran damp and hot from the girl's huge cornflower eyes. _Pathetic._ Mikasa turned away. She hated to think of what anyone back home would be telling of her now. She hated to speculate what Armin would be thinking of her. And what about the townspeople, people whom she'd never been on good terms with anyway_? 'Oi, that girl, the one the Jaegers took in? Well, she killed a gal from 5. Heard that? Eh? She did, tellin' ya, axed right inta the gal's throat. Knew that Mikasa'd go bad someday. I ain't never wrong 'bout people. Never wrong.'_

Her first kill, was someone who hadn't even made as to threaten Mikasa's safety. Up until that point in the games, she'd been adamant to only assault those who take the initiative. Ymir hadn't even known she'd been present all the while. She'd taken her by surprise, which was a main reason to her victory.

Well, her second victory was as short lived as the first. Motivated by the girl's pathetic bawling, Mikasa moved swiftly, faster than lightning, and swung with perfect motions, scissoring her victim's shoulders and neck, cutting clean. Soon, Christa's paleness turned blue, she fell as limp as a rag doll. _Another boom!_ Moving on, wiping the blood from her ax, the raven haired focused on the girl from 11, her quivering body, her shaking hands gripping at the small bow. Yeah, she recognized her now. Her name was Sasha something. They pegged her of a tree climber. A skilled archer? Never.

_Well now_, Mikasa fixed her demeanor, appearing cold and ruthless, she must've given the 12 year quite a scare, for her shaking intensified. She raised her bow before her face, as if shielding it with a useless piece of wood. _Yes_, wood. Mikasa couldn't help but notice that the bow was apparently not of the metallic kind provided by the Cornucopia, but a handily crafted one.

That was something she could care less about. In her intense rush of Adrenalin, the throbbing of her right arm subsided. All her strength resided in her left grip. She raised the ax upwards.

"Little girl."

Silence.

"I need to know about the boy from your tribute."

No answer.

"I'm talking to you."

None.

"Telling me might save your sorry ass. I suggest you start spilling it out."

Silence. No answers. Just glares shot straight and forward in her direction. Mikasa winced. _Not another victim, please, don't make me kill another person. Please, don't make me kill a child._

Her eyes, deep brown, with flecks of gold and hazel, glared back at her, determined, angry, _and proud._ As if this girl, just by getting elected for the games, had aged years beyond her sweet childhood. She must've realized that, were she not to win the fight, she'd die proudly and with her head held high.

And the worst was, minutes ago, Mikasa was ready to kill her, just for being at the wrong place in the wrong time and reacting in the wrong way. Now, she wasn't so sure. Her grip went slick. There was something in the child's posture, something that reminded her of a 6 year old sitting in a snow puddle in the woods, frightened, scared, but sternly refusing to cry out for help.

"_What's your name?" The 10 year old green eyed boy questioned curiously._

"_Don't have one."_

"_Really? That's unfortunate. I'm Eren."_

"_E..re..n?"_

"_Yeah… that's right. Eren!"_

"_Mi..k.."_

"_What? Oh, __**oh**__.. yeah, go on, Mik..?"_

"_ ..a.."_

"_Mika..?"_

"_sssss….aa"_

"_Mikasa! See? It's not hard to pronounce. Don't be scared, I won't hurt you. Gee, look at'cha, so small and huddled up…" His eyes widened with the realization "You're cold, eh?"_

_Not knowing how to react, little Mikasa nodded._

"_Here" He draped his crimson colored scarf around her neck, then seemingly decisive, he dropped what had made her wary of him, a small ax, small, but a weapon nonetheless._

_Mikasa couldn't remember a thing back then. Couldn't remember why she'd been in the middle of nowhere, with no stich on, and with the wind chilling her bones. The boy didn't seem the least bit alarmed, it was as if he'd carried millions of naked 6 year olds home before. Nevertheless, she hadn't easily complied when he gently probed her to keel into his child arms so he could carry her home. She raised her head proudly and murmured words that truly sent the first signals of disbelief in those gorgeous green eyes of his "I can walk on my own, thank you."_

Now, why would she recall something so distracting?

And why, pray tell, did her arm fall limp by her side? Why isn't she butchering this girl already? She should be doing so, especially now that her keen ears picked on the sound of not-so-subtle footsteps.

Approaching.

_Crunch, crunch, crunch!_

A bullet flew by, just barely, barely grazing the air millimeters from her ear.

No, not a bullet. The spear was lodged in the tree trunk before her, whoever had thrown it and made as to only warn her and did so with enough precision and focus that the right side of her feathery hair went fluttering for an instant there.

She turned her head just slightly to examine the weapon. Unlike, Ymir who had been careless with her one and only spear, this person had attached a thin metal chain to the butt of the spear handle. She assumed it was so as to yank back.

And yank it was.

She needn't know whose brilliant idea it was to fabricate such a convenient use of spears, she knew one person capable of such creation.

And like the numerous times when she'd met him, her instincts worked their magic. In the brief moment when the person yanked the spear back, freeing it of the tree, Mikasa had time to sling her ax on one shoulder and hurriedly picked up 11th girl and shot forward. Immediately, her attacker followed suit, his running purposefully slower than usual. She thought _usual_ because she was fairly certain of who he'd been.

There was one person in this arena who would tease her into her own death.

Mikasa ran harder, the weight of Sasha dragging her down, the little girl blinked at her as if astonished at the fact that she'd been still alive and carried bridal style in the most uncomfortable jog through the mountain woods. Mikasa didn't care. She gave a fleeting glance over her shoulder, briefly drinking in her pursuer. He had a several spears hung on his back along with the one he'd thrust at her. His run was swift, yet it looked as if he wasn't making the least bit of effort or giving his legs a real go. Once he did, she'd be truly fucked.

Mikasa screwed her eyes shut and thought. Her suspicions confirmed, she thought of Levi, fixing her with an indifferent look in the train, offering her his hand in the chariot display, showing off a couple of tricks with the spears in the training arena, Levi as she'd seen him in Nanaba's interview, stiff and sour, Levi as she'd seen him that last night in the dining room of their quarters, bathing in the pitch blackness of the area.

"_I ain't gonna complain 'bout nothin'" His manner of speech had always been straight and gave impression of the wealthier much more sophisticated people in 12, but she'd learned from studying him closely that whenever he lost his edge, he'd bellow meaningless gibberish, like those hill people and those who inhabit forest shacks, the distant residents of 12, not from the seam. "I mean, I volunteered. Obviously, I knew what I was coming at. It's just, this stubbornness in me you know? Insisting I should win and poke everyone in 12 in the eye, you know?" He looked at her expectantly, even in the darkness, his ice blue eyes gleamed strangely. It was their first straight conversation, and she hated admitting that she totally knew what he'd been talking about "I know." She replied calmly, turning her head so as to avoid seeing the satisfied smile that spread along his lips, making him look both handsome and devilish. His blessed combination. She couldn't claim it was that charming._

_Maybe it wasn't, but it made her heart beat faster, her brow sweat and she sternly refused to look at his handsome grin, it made her antagonize him even more than before._

Mikasa closed her eyes, saw her last recollections of him, the way he nodded before they parted to their respective hovercrafts, the way he smiled expectantly at her at the beginning of the games, anticipating her first move. She'd taken him aback, the way she feigned her assault on him, and that wide eyed face was the one she refused to forget most. She hated Levi, but she wished he'd be here with her now. Anything, anyone would be better than the guy following her with his sadistic slow trail, his calculating eyes and that mocking grin. In that one fleeting glance, Mikasa had seen that Levi was smiling at her now, the way he'd smiled at her that last night in the dining room.

That devilishly handsome smile, his sadistic trademark. Gradually, slowly but surely, He was gaining pace and he shot top speed, she found herself straining to escape. She would fight him, she would. She kept thinking about her right hand though. No, her best option was to keep running, carrying the girl from 11 and running.

Damn Levi.


	6. Chapter 6

**When in her favor**

**Author's note:**** I'm so soooooo sorry for staying away this long. I had exams. Loads. I promise to write more frequently now that I aint no longer busy. Oh and there're some gory scenes in this chapter (what I hope is gore, idk I'm just a newbie) **

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Mikasa didn't know how long it lasted. She was getting dizzier by the minute and the child cradled in her arms was getting heavier. All while she ducked, weaved a new route, hopped, the girl from 11 was staring up at her in awe, as if she hadn't glared beady hazel eyes at her moments ago.

Levi was having his share of fun. She'd give him that. Spears sizzled by her head, scratching her scalp, even yanking some fair amount of strands of her feathery ebony hair.

"Lead me!" Mikasa shouted, despairing. The little girl's eyes lit with understanding. She whispered faintly, barely audible.

"Left.."

So Mikasa turned left.

With 11's guiding, she found herself slowly immerging in the thick woods. She spared one glance across her shoulder. To watch Levi. His attention was being diverted to something else, someone else she like to presume, was taking advantage of his being focused on pursuing her and probably decided now was the time to intervene. She wished it be true. Mikasa, brave, fierce, ferocious and fiery Mikasa who had never backed away from a fight, was running from her arch nemesis. She hated humiliation. And humiliation had been too overwhelming. So strong, that her skin flamed. She took a narrow turn and observed Levi for a quarter of a second. Pondering if it would be a bright idea to fight the bastard in her current condition. She needed to deposit the girl from 11 in the thick foliage and probably wrap her up, but that would take time, and the girl seemed too hurt and too worn down by fatigue to even contemplate running away. After all, Mikasa _did_ need her as possible witness of Berik's whereabouts.

And then again, there was the matter of her hand. Try as she would she didn't manage to duplicate her lethal hit with a sound left hand. She was too vulnerable, too weak. And in a moment of hesitation, while blood lust and reason battled in her mind, her sensibility won over and she prepped to shoot away once more. Only catching a glimpse of Levi now. His head turned southward. No longer running, his posture was rather rigid. She hesitated again, and finally realizing the reason behind his disinterest in hunting her down. She fled the scene.

Somewhere around the 14th boulder of the hill she'd been scaling for the last 15minutes, Mikasa heard the screams. Terrible, gut churning screams. She silently hoped they'd be Levi's, but quickly shook the wish away. Those screams were definitely feminine. Plus, she didn't want Levi to die yet. She wanted to be the one to stay her hand if she wanted, when she wanted, or swing the ax to deprive him his miserable life.

Revenge would be sweet for giving her that scare, and for making her legs ache so much. Why were they aching this much? She'd ran miles before, without breaking a sweat. And god, why did her stomach feel so…so _hollow._

The little girl still assumed her role as a guide through the mountains. From what Mikasa had caught on, she was leading her to their secret hideaway. Mikasa wondered. Who the fuck were _they_?

The raven haired was panting by the time they've reached a dead end. A Mountain rocky wall loomed over them. 11 gestured for her to approach. And approach she did, and she parted the curtain of leaves from the rocks, noticing as she did a deep hole. Perhaps a tunnel, she guessed. Big enough to fit her crouching form.

"Here?" Mikasa questioned, incredulous. 11 simply nodded, and surprising her, rolled from her grip and fell straight and sure in the tunnel where darkness swallowed her.

Mikasa hesitated. The least she wanted was a confrontation with whoever it is that waited at the end of the tunnel. _Whatever…_ She thought. She didn't feel like she cared anymore. Her vision was going blurrier by the second. She lost consciousness just as she'd made her mind to pivot away. Luckily the curtain of leaves she'd removed earlier was still on the ground to cushion her fall. And just as the world faded, she felt herself instinctively reaching for the tunnel. Then herself falling in the darkness.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Her dreams showed her more than she'd ever wanted. They've always done so. Like the time when she was barely fourteen and she woke from a nightmare when she saw herself as Eren and Eren was slowly dying in the arena.

This time she was Levi. She… He stood circled by trees just as she'd seen him last. His smile was gone. He was cannily scanning his surroundings. Fortunately for him, he was attentive enough to see the knife coming, and he ducked. Raising his head, his bangs fell over his eyes, clouding his vision but also tearing drastically at his self-control. As she saw him now, Mikasa realized that he was a blood crazed maniac. Through his eyes, she watched the leaves, the grass, and the dirt scatter about as he shot forward like lightning bolt and yanked one of his spears back to his grip.

His assaulters were taken aback. The girl from 6, Hannah, reddish hair and freckles. A cute face, and a very cute squeal, but a shrill scream emanated from her perfectly shaped mouth as Levi shoved his weapon in her and kept her torso dangling from the tree. She wasn't dead. Flailing miserably, she tried freeing herself, only to howl in agony. She half managed to get the spear out, when Levi fixed the knife she'd sent in his direction in her hand against the tree trunk. She screamed.

From his peripheral vision, Levi saw the other guy coming his way. He was cussing, and by the time Levi turned, yanked another spear to his other hand, the boy, 17 and called Franz was bellowing with rage. The two of them, Hannah and Franz were a budding romance from the same district, and they easily attracted the attention of the audience and the sponsors. People in the Capitol, as they appeared, were so well fed, so nicely clothed, so bizarrely painted that they were bored with their tired free lives and they craved the slightest touch of melodrama. It simply took shape in a pair of tributes in the games, who, if Levi had to observe, were not nearly as strong or as talented or even as likely to win as he was. They only had this shitty excuse of a star crossed love. As it is, they had all the odds in their favor since the sponsors seemed to adore them. _Well, _Mikasa heard him thinking, _let's see if they like 'em now with their eyes plucked out._

Monotonously, almost indifferent, Levi shoved his spear in Franz' way. They guy proved to be smarter that his girlfriend. He made a pathetic attempt to duck, or to roll away. But the blade of the weapon coordinated with his movements like a magnet. Finding an opening in the crook of Franz' shoulder, Levi jabbed inwards.

They were both howling by the time he was finished. Levi had made a big show of pinning the pair in opposing gigantic trees. Facing each other, they had nothing to do but cry out for help. He smirked as he caught sight of Hannah's runny nose and her bulging eyes. Crouching low, he fished in the contents of his bag, extending a short bladed knife, a longer one and a small dirty fork.

_Perfect._ He thought, and stood up. He scanned the area above his head, finally catching sight of the camera. He was being aired life, and millions of people in the nation were watching him. Some would hate him, some would wince and never look at the screen to experience the gore and some would adore him for providing the capitol with the exact kind of entertainment they sought most.

_Greetings and salutations. The following performance is a personal dedication of mine to district 6, telling them never to send their pathetic goons after me again. Not when I'm in a hunt. They made me miss out on some tasty game earlier. _

_This also is dedicated to Hannes, my mentor. Hannes, man, you said I can't torture people with silverware. Well guess fucking what? I've a fork, and I'm not afraid of using it. Hannah's got some decent eye set, right there. And I'm sure Franz can dispose of his tongue for the while, since he won't be talking. He'd only be using his vocal cords._

_And finally, I address my fellow tribute Mikasa. Mikasa, you never make anything easy do you? You want this a prolonged, tiresome hunt for both of us? Well, what can I say? You'll get just that. I'm a well-mannered boy, after all._

With his voice, sounding in the deadly calm, he inched towards Hannah. She had knives tying her to the tree from shoulder downward. And despite the tremendous amount of bleeding, she wasn't dead yet. Levi wiped his fork on his shawl, wet his lip once, and bent over. With the adamant attentiveness of an artist, he pried her shut lids open and dug the fork in the upper edge of the eyeball in slow Mo. The tender flush tore, aqueous pore. And then came the screams.

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**I swear I'll write as soon as possible a continuation. By now the plot is pretty clear in my head, and I fixed some twists along the way. If only I weren't sooo lazy. :P (also, I've no damn clue what aqueous is, I just included the word to make myself look smart, kidding.)**


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